


The Only Truly New Sensation

by reiley



Series: WIAD Home Game [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Challenge Response, Community: writerinadrawer, F/M, Ficlet, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiley/pseuds/reiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She lets him do these things, take her, shape her… and once, she’d thought she was the one in control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Truly New Sensation

**Author's Note:**

> *written using the prompt: [4.03](http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer/137178.html): This story was written in response to a Reverse Fandom prompt. The fandom was Sports Night, the episode title I chose was “Pilot” - I don’t know if that actually counts as an episode title, but I’m going with it anyway.
> 
> (title is from a quote by James Dickey that I totally just googled)
> 
> originally posted 06/25/10

* * *

‘Nipples could cut glass’ is just an expression, but it _is_ ice cold against Gwen’s bare breasts; Owen is hot and slick against her back. Her forehead knocks against the window on every other thrust, even as she braces herself with her hands, the entire city spread out before her. If she peered into the darkness hard enough, she might find Jack up on one of his rooftops watching over them. Or Rhys down there on the streets.

What would they think of her, if they looked over to see every inch of her skin clinging to this glass?

Owen’s hands on her hips do the steering, tugging her back as he drives into her, whispering dirty in her ear. “You wanna fly? I can make you fly.” And, oh yes, he can. He could push her right through, shattering the reflected cityscape, piloting her high and send her soaring out over the bay. She lets him do these things, take her, shape her… and once, she’d thought she was the one in control.

“Yeah, go on,” he grunts in her ear, fingers scratching down through her hair to find her clit. Her thighs tremble, barely holding her up, and she doesn’t even notice when he comes, body singing, searing and slippery streaking the windowpane.

Then cold all over when he peels himself away, leaving her leaning against the window, with Cardiff dark and looming beyond. Once, he’d have swept her sweaty hair off her face and kissed her.

Gwen takes a moment to breathe before pulling her clothes back on, stuffing knickers into her jacket pocket. In the lounge, lit only by the glow of a fish tank, she finds her bag next to a delicate white scarf draped over the coffee table. She checks her mobile – four missed calls: Rhys. Behind her, the shower runs, blending with the bubbling of the aquarium. A little yellow snail clings to the side, rippling slowly upward. Gwen watches it smooshing against the glass. She should end this.

The shower stops, and she slinks out the door, closing it silently behind her.

* * *


End file.
